


'•^^'^ 









f v. 



>*"\« 



d^^- 



,^f 



i'y*''dt,.i^ 



.^■7. 



tS'W 



.fc 






t'f::t...^ 







rf* 



'>». 






:•••>?:■ 

'^^.;- 






»*.>j 



^v-^ 






i ' 




^^< ;-\ 



'"^T^N^^ 



;^NJ^'i 






u^^- 

■■'U:^: 



CARCASSONNE 

« By lORD DuMSANy ^ 



[ ^ t (i ba re n . 



CARCASSONNE 



BY 

Lord Dunsany 



LIMITED EDITION 

REPKINTED FOR 

MISS VIRGINIA BERRY 



JOHN W. LUCE & COMPANY 

BOSTON 



1^/6 






All rights reserved 
John W. Luce & Company 



GIFT 

MRS. WOODROW WiLSOM 

NOV. 25, 1939 



CARCASSONNE 



Carcassonne 



In a letter from a friend whom I have never seen, 
one of those that read my hooks, this line was 
quoted — "But he, he never came to Carcas- 
sonne,'^ I do not know the origin of the line, 
hut I made this tale ahout it. 




hen Camorak reigned at Am, 
and the world was fairer, he 
gave a festival to all the 
Weald to commemorate the 
splendour of his youth. 
They say that his house at Am was 
huge and high, and its ceiling painted blue; 
and when evening fell men would climb up 
by ladders and light the scores of candles 
hanging from slender chains. And they 
say, too, that sometimes a cloud would 
come, and pour in through the top of one 
of the oriel windows, and it would come 

144 



A Dreamer's Tales 

over the edge of the stonework as the sea- 
mist comes over a sheer cUff's shaven Up 
where an old wind has blown for ever and 
ever (he has swept away thousands of 
leaves and thousands of centuries, they are 
all one to him, he owes no allegiance to 
Time.) And the cloud would re-shape itself 
in the halFs lofty vault and drift on through 
it slowly, and out to the sky again through 
another window. And from its shape the 
knights in Camorak's hall would prohesy 
the battles and sieges of the next season of 
war. They say of the hall of Camorak 
at Arn that there hath been none like it 
in any land, and foretell that there will be 
never. 

Hither had come in the folk of the Weald 
from sheepfold and from forest, revolving 
slow thoughts of food, and shelter, and 
love, and they sat down wondering in that 
famous hall; and therein also were seated 
the men of Am, the town that clustered 
round the King's high house, and was all 
roofed with the red, maternaFearth. 

If old songs may be trusted, it was a 
marvellous hall. 

Many who sat there could only have 

145 



-^ GIFT 
MRS. WOODROW W1LS0M 
NOV. 25, 1939 



A Dreamer's Tales 

seen it distantly before, a clear shape in 
the landscape, but smaller than a hill. 
Now they beheld along the wall the weapons 
of Camorak's men, of which already the 
lute-players made songs, and tales were 
told at evening in the bjres. There they 
descried the shield of Camorak that had 
gone to and fro across so many battles, and 
the sharp but dinted edges of his sword; 
there were the weapons of Gadriol the 
Leal, and Norn, and Athoric of the Sleety 
Sword, Heriel the Wild, Yarold, and Thanga 
of Esk, their arms hung evenly all round 
the hall, low where a man could reach them; 
and in the place of honour in the midst, 
between the arms of Camorak and of 
Gadriol the Leal, hung the harp of Arleon. 
And of all the weapons hanging on those 
walls none were more calamitous to Cam- 
orak's foes than was the harp of Arleon. 
For to a man that goes up against a strong 
place on foot, pleasant indeed is the twang 
and jolt of some fearful engine of war that 
his fellow-warriors are working behind him, 
from which huge rocks go sighing over his 
head and plunge among his foes; and 
pleasant to a warrior in the wavering fight 

146 



A Dreamer's Tales 

are the swift commands of his King, and a 
joy to him are his comrades' distant cheers 
exulting suddenly at a turn of the war. 
All this and more was the harp to Cam- 
orak's men; for not only would it cheer his 
warriors on, but many a time would Arleon 
of the Harp strike wild amazement into 
opposing hosts by some rapturous prophecy 
suddenly shouted out while his hand swept 
over the roaring strings. Moreover, no 
war was ever declared till Camorak and his 
men had Ustened long to the harp, and were 
elate with the music and mad against peace. 
Once Arleon, for the sake of a rhyme, had 
made war upon Estabonn; and an evil king 
was overthrown, and honour and glory 
won; from such queer motives does good 
sometimes accrue. 

Above the shields and the harps all 
round the hall were the painted figures of 
heroes of fabulous famous songs. Too 
trivial, because too easily surpassed by 
Camorak's men, seemed all the victories 
that the earth had known; neither was any 
trophy displayed of Camorak's seventy 
battles, for these were as nothing to his 
warriors or him compared with those 

147 



A Dreamer's Tales 

things that their youth had dreamed 
and which they mightily purposed yet 
to do. 

Above the painted pictures there was 
darkness, for evening was closing in, and 
the candles swinging on their slender chain 
were not yet Ut in the roof; it was as though 
a piece of the night had been builded in to 
the edifice like a huge natural rock that 
juts into a house. And there sat all the 
warriors of Arn and the Weald-folk wonder- 
ing at them; and none were more than 
thirty, and all were skilled in war. And 
Camorack sat at the head of all, exulting 
in his youth. 

We must wrestle with Time for some 
seven decades, and he is a weak and puny 
antagonist in the first three bouts. 

Now there was present at this feast a 
diviner, one who knew the schemes of 
Fate, and he sat among the people of the 
Weald and had no place of honour, for 
Camorak and his men had no fear of Fate. 
And when the meat was eaten and the bones 
cast aside, the king rose up from his chair, 
and having drunken wine, and being in the 
glory of his youth and with all his knights 

148 



A Dreamer's Tales 

about him, called to the diviner, saying, 
"Prophesy ." 

And the diviner rose up, stroking his 
grey beard, and spake guardedly — "There 
are certain events," he said, "upon the 
ways of Fate that are veiled even from a 
diviner's eyes, and many more are clear to 
us that were better veiled from all; much I 
know that is better unforetold, and some 
things that I may not foretell on pain of 
centuries of punishment. But this I know 
and foretell — that you will never come to 
Carcassonne." 

Instantly there was a buzz of talk tell- 
ing of Carcassonne — some had heard of 
it in speech or song, some had read of 
it, and some had dreamed of it. And 
the king sent Arleon of the Harp down 
from his right hand to mingle with the 
Weald-folk to hear aught that any told 
of Carcassonne. But the warriors told of 
the places they had won to— many a hard- 
held fortress, many a far-ofif land, and 
swore that they would come to Carcassonne. 

And in a while came Arleon back to 
the king's right hand, and raised his harp 
and chanted and told of Carcassonne. 

149 



A Dreamer's Tales 

Far away it was, and far and far away, 
a city of gleaming ramparts rising one 
over other, and marble terraces behind the 
ramparts, and fountains shimmering on the 
terraces. To Carcassonne the elf-kings 
with their fairies had first retreated from 
men, and had built it on an evening late 
in May by blowing their elfin horns. Car- 
cassonne! Carcassonne! 

Travellers had seen it sometimes like a 
clear dream, with the sun glittering on its 
citadel upon a far-off hill-top, and then 
the clouds had come or a sudden mist; 
no one had seen it long or come quite 
close to it; though once there were some 
men that came very near, and the smoke 
from the houses blew into their faces, a 
sudden gust — no more, and these declared 
that some one was burning cedarwood there. 
Men had dreamed that there is a witch 
there, walking alone through the cold 
courts and corridors of marmorean palaces, 
fearfully beautiful still for all her four- 
score centuries, singing the second oldest 
song, which was taught her by the sea, 
shedding tears for loneliness from eyes that 
would madden armies, yet will she not call 

150 



A Dreamer's Tales 

her dragons home— Carcassonne is terribly 
guarded. Sometimes she swims in a marble 
bath through whose deeps a river tumbles, 
or Ues all morning on the edge of it to dry 
slowly in the sun, and watches the heaving 
river trouble the deeps of the bath. It 
flows through the caverns of earth for 
further than she knows, and coming to 
light in the witch's bath goes down through 
the earth again to its own peculiar sea. 

In autumn sometimes it comes down 
black with snow that spring has molten in 
unimagined mountains, or withered blooms 
of mountain shrubs go beautifully by. 

When there is blood in the bath she 
knows there is war in the mountains; and 
yet she knows not where those mountains 
are. 

When she sings the fountains dance up 
from the dark earth, when she combs her 
hair they say there are storms at sea, when 
she is angry the wolves grow brave and all 
come doTiTi to the byres, when she is sad 
the sea is sad, and both are sad for ever. 
Carcassonne! Carcassonne! 

This city is the fairest of the wonders 
of Morning; the sun shouts when he be- 

151 



A Dreamefs Tales 

holdeth it; for Carcassonne Evening weep- 
eth when Evening passeth away. 

And Arleon told how many goodly perils 
were round about the city, and how the 
way was unknown, and it was a knightly 
venture. Then all the warriors stood up 
and sang of the splendour of the venture. 
And Camorak swore by the gods that had 
builded Arn, and by the honour of his 
warriors that, alive or dead, he would come 
to Carcassonne. 

But the diviner rose and passed out of 
the hall, brushing the crumbs from him 
with his hands and smoothing his robe as 
he went. 

Then Camorak said, "There are many 
things to be planned, and counsels to be 
taken, and provender to be gathered. Upon 
what day shall we start?" And all the 
warriors answering shouted, "Now." And 
Camorak smiled thereat, for he had but 
tried them. Down then from the walls 
they took their weapons, Sikorix, Kelleron, 
Aslof, Wole of the Axe; Huhenoth, Peace- 
breaker; Wolwuf, Father of War; Tarion, 
Lurth of the War-cry and many another. 
Little then dreamed the spiders that sat 

152 



A Dreamefs Tales 

in that ringing hall of the unmolested 
leisure they were soon to enjoy. 

When they were armed they all formed 
up and marched out of the hall, and Arleon 
strode before them singing of Carcassonne. 

But the folk of the Weald arose and 
went back well-fed to their byres. They 
had no need of wars or of rare perils. They 
were ever at war with hunger. A long 
drought or hard winter were to them 
pitched battles; if the wolves entered a 
sheep-fold it was like the loss of a fortress, 
a thunder-storm on the harvest was hke 
an ambuscade. Well-fed, they went back 
slowly to their byres, being at truce with 
hunger: and the night filled with stars. 

And black against the starry sky ap- 
peared the round helms of the warriors as 
they passed the tops of the ridges, but in 
the valleys they sparkled now and then as 
the starlight flashed on steel. 

They followed behind Arleon going south, 
whence rumours had always come of Car- 
cassonne: so they marched in the starlight, 
and he before them singing. 

When they had marched so far that they 
heard no sound from Arn, and even in- 

153 



A Dreamer's Tales 

audible were her swinging bells, when 
candles burning late far up in towers no 
longer sent them their disconsolate wel- 
come; in the midst of the pleasant night 
that lulls the rural spaces, weariness came 
upon Arleon and his inspiration failed. It 
failed slowly. Gradually he grew less sure 
of the way to Carcassonne. Awhile he 
stopped to think, and remembered the way 
again; but his clear certainty was gone, 
and in its place were efforts in his mind to 
recall old prophecies and shepherd's songs 
that told of the marvellous city. Then as 
he said over carefully to himseK a song 
that a wanderer had learnt from a goat- 
herd's boy far up the lower slope of ultimate 
southern mountains, fatigue came down 
upon his toiling mind like snow on the 
winding ways of a city noisy by night, 
stilling all. 

He stood, and the warriors closed up to 
him. For long they had passed by great 
oaks standing solitary here and there, like 
giants taking huge breaths of the night air 
before doing some furious deed; now they 
had come to the verge of a black forest; 
the tree-trunks stood like those great col- 

154 



A Dreamer's Tales 

umns in an Eg3nptian hall whence God in 
an older mood received the praise of men; 
the top of it sloped the way of an ancient 
wind. Here they all halted and lighted a 
fire of branches, striking sparks from flint 
into a heap of bracken. They eased them 
of their armour, and sat round the fire, 
and Camorak stood up there and addressed 
them, and Camorak said: "We go to war 
with Fate, who has doomed that I shall not 
come to Carcassonne. And if we turn 
aside but one of the dooms of Fate, then the 
whole future of the world is ours, and the 
future that Fate has ordered is like the 
dry course of an averted river. But if 
such men as we, such resolute conquer- 
ors, cannot prevent one doom that Fate 
has planned, then is the race of man en- 
slaved for ever to do its petty and allotted 
task." 

Then they all drew their swords, and 
waved them high in the firelight, and 
declared war on Fate. 

Nothing in the sombre forest stirred or 
made any sound. 

Tired men do not dream of war. When 
morning came over the gleaming fields a 

155 



A Dreamer's Tales 

company that had set out from Am dis- 
covered the camping-place of the warriors, 
and brought pavilions and provender. And 
the warriors feasted, and the birds in the 
forest sang, and the inspiration of Arleon 
awoke. 

Then they arose, and following Arleon, 
entered the forest, and marched away to 
the South. And many a woman of Arn 
sent her thoughts with them as they played 
alone some old monotonous tune, but their 
own thoughts were far before them, skim- 
ming over the bath through whose deeps 
the river tumbles in marble Carcassonne. 

When butterflies were dancing on the 
air, and the sun neared the zenith, pavilions 
were pitched, and all the warriors rested; 
and then they feasted again, and then 
played knightly games, and late in the after- 
noon marched on once more, singing of 
Carcassonne. 

And night came down with its mystery 
on the forest, and gave their demoniac 
look again to the trees, and rolled up out 
of misty hollows a huge and yellow moon. 

And the men of Arn lit fires, and sudden 
shadows arose and leaped fantastically 

156 



A Dreamer's Tales 

away. And the night-wind blew, arising 
Uke a ghost, and passed between the tree- 
trunks, and slipped down shimmering 
glades, and waked the prowling beasts still 
dreaming of day, and drifted nocturnal birds 
afield to menace timorous things, and beat 
the roses against cottagers' panes, and 
whispered news of the befriending night, 
and wafted to the ears of wandering men 
the sound of a maiden's song, and gave a 
glamour to the lutanist's tune played in 
his loneliness on distant hills; and the deep 
eyes of moths glowed like a galleon's lamps, 
and they spread their wings and sailed their 
familiar sea. Upon this night-wind also 
the dreams of Camorak's men floated to 
Carcassonne. 

All the next morning they marched, and 
all the evening, and knew they were near- 
ing now the deeps of the forest. And the 
citizens of Arn kept close together and 
close behind the warriors. For the deeps of 
the forest were all unknown to travellers, 
but not unknown to those tales of fear 
that men tell at evening to their friends, in 
the comfort and the safety of their hearths. 
Then night appeared, and an enormous 

157 



A Dreamer's Tales 

moon. And the men of Camorak slept. 
Sometimes they woke, and went to sleep 
again; and those that stayed awake for 
long and Ustened heard heavy two-footed 
creatures pad through the night on paws. 

As soon as it was light the unarmed men 
of Arn began to slip away, and went back 
by bands through the forest. When dark- 
ness came they did not stop to sleep, but 
continued their flight straight on until they 
came to Arn, and added there by the tales 
they told to the terror of the forest. 

But the warriors feasted, and afterwards 
Arleon rose, and played his harp, and led 
them on again; and a few faithful servants 
stayed with them still. And they marched 
all day through a gloom that was as old as 
night, but Arleon's inspiration burned in 
his mind like a star. And he led them till 
the birds began to drop into the tree-tops, 
and it was evening and they all encamped. 
They had only one pavilion left to them 
now, and near it they lit a fire, and Cam- 
orak posted a sentry with drawn sword 
just beyond the glow of the firelight. Some 
of the warriors slept in the pavilion and 
others round about it. 

158 



A Dreamefs Tales 

When dawn came something terrible had 
killed and eaten the sentry. But the 
splendour of the rumours of Carcassonne 
and Fate's decree that they should never 
come there, and the inspiration of Arleon 
and his harp, all urged the warriors on; and 
they marched deeper and deeper all day 
into the forest. 

Once they saw a dragon that had caught 
a bear and was playing with it, letting it run 
a little way and overtaking it with a paw. 

They came at last to a clear space in 
the forest just before nightfall. An odour 
of flowers arose from it like a mist, and 
every drop of dew interpreted heaven unto 
itself. 

It was the hour when twilight kisses 
Earth. 

It was the hour when a meaning comes 
into senseless things, and trees out-majesty 
the pomp of monarchs, and the timid 
creatures steal abroad to feed, and as yet 
the beasts of prey harmlessly dream, and 
Earth utters a sigh, and it is night. 

In the midst of the wide clearing Cam- 
orak's warriors camped, and rejoiced to see 
the stars again appearing one by one. 

159 



A Dreamer's Tales 

That night they ate the last of their 
provisions, and slept unmolested by the 
prowling things that haunt the gloom of 
the forest. 

On the next day some of the warriors 
hunted stags, and others lay in rushes by 
a neighboring lake and shot arrows at 
water-fowl. One stag was killed, and some 
geese, and several teal. 

Here the adventurers stayed, breathing 
the pure wild air that cities know not; by 
day they hunted, and lit fires by night, and 
sang and feasted, and forgot Carcassonne. 
The terrible denizens of the gloom never 
molested them, venison was plentiful, and 
all manner of water-fowl: they loved the 
chase by day, and by night their favourite 
songs. Thus day after day went by, thus 
week after week. Time flung over this en- 
campment a handful of noons, the gold and 
silver moons that waste the year away; 
Autumn and Winter passed, and Spring 
appeared; and still the warriors hunted 
and feasted there. 

One night of the springtide they were 
feasting about a fire and telling tales 
of the chase, and the soft moths came 

160 



A Dreamer's Tales 

out of the dark and flaunted their col- 
ours in the firelight, and went out grey 
into the dark again; and the night wind 
was cool upon the warriors' necks, and 
the camp-fire was warm in their faces, 
and a silence had settled among them 
after some song, and Arleon all at once rose 
suddenly up, remembering Carcassonne. 
And his hand swept over the strings of 
his harp, awaking the deeper chords, like 
the sound of a nimble people dancing their 
steps on bronze, and the music rolled away 
into the night's own silence, and the voice 
of Arleon rose : 

"When there is blood in the bath she 
knows there is war in the mountains, and 
longs for the battle-shout of kingly men." 

And suddenly all shouted, "Carcassonne ! " 
And at that word their idleness was gone 
as a dream is gone from a dreamer waked 
with a shout. And soon the great march 
began that faltered no more nor wavered. 
Unchecked by battles, undaunted in lone- 
some spaces, ever unwearied by the vultur- 
ous years, the warriors of Camorak held 
on; and Arleon's inspiration led them still. 
They cleft with the music of Arleon's harp 

161 



A Dreamer's Tales 

the gloom of ancient silences; they went 
singing into battles with terrible wild men, 
and came out singing, but with fewer 
voices; they came to villages in valleys full 
of the music of bells, or saw the hghts at 
dusk of cottages sheltering others. 

They became a proverb for wandering, 
and a legend arose of strange, disconsolate 
men. Folks spoke of them at nightfall 
when the fire was warm and rain slipped 
down the eaves; and when the wind was 
high small children feared the Men Who 
Would Not Rest were going clattering past. 
Strange tales were told of men in old grey 
armour moving at twilight along the tops 
of the hills and never asking shelter; and 
mothers told their boys who grew impatient 
of home that the grey wanderers were once 
so impatient and were now hopeless of 
rest, and were driven along with the rain 
whenever the wind was angry. 

But the wanderers were cheered in their 
wandering by the hope of coming to Car- 
cassonne, and later on by anger against 
Fate, and at last they inarched on still be- 
cause it seemed better to march on than 
to think. 

162 



A Dreamer's Tales 

For many years they had wandered and 
had fought with many tribes; often they 
gathered legends in villages and listened to 
idle singers singing songs; and all the 
rumours of Carcassonne still came from the 
South. 

And then one day they came to a hilly 
land with a legend in it that only three 
valleys away a man might see, on clear 
days, Carcassonne. Tired though they were 
and few, and worn with the years which 
had all brought them wars, they pushed on 
instantly, led still by Arleon's inspiration 
which dwindled in his age, though he made 
music with his old harp still. 

All day they climbed down into the first 
valley and for two days ascended, and came 
to the Town That May Not Be Taken In 
War below the top of the mountain, and 
its gates were shut against them, and there 
was no way round. To left and right steep 
precipices stood for as far as eye could see 
or legend tell of, and the pass lay through 
the city. Therefore Camorak drew up his 
remaining warriors in line of battle to wage 
their last war, and they stepped forward 
over the crisp bones of old, unburied armies. 

163 



A Dreamer's Tales 

No sentinel defied them in the gate, no 
arrow flew from any tower of war. One 
citizen cUmbed alone to the mountain's 
top, and the rest hid themselves in sheltered 
places. 

Now, in the top of the mountain was 
a deep, bowl-like cavern in the rock, in 
which fires bubbled softly. But if any cast 
a boulder into the fires, as it was the custom 
for one of those citizens to do when enemies 
approached them, the mountain hurled up 
intermittent rocks for three days, and the 
rocks fell flaming all over the town and all 
round about it. And just as Camorak's 
men began to batter the gate they heard a 
crash on the mountain, and a great rock fell 
beyond them and rolled into the valley. 
The next two fell in front of them on 
the iron roofs of the town. Just as they 
entered the town a rock found them crowded 
in a narrow street, and shattered two of 
them. The mountain smoked and panted; 
with every pant a rock plunged into the 
streets or bounced along the heavy iron 
roof, and the smoke went slowly up, and 
up, and up. 

When they had come through the long 

164 



A Dreamer's Tales 

town's empty streets to the locked gate 
at the end, only fifteen were left. When 
they had broken down the gate there were 
only ten alive. Three more were killed 
as they went up the slope, and two as they 
passed near the terrible cavern. Fate let 
the rest go some way down the mountain 
upon the other side, and then took three 
of them. Camorak and Arleon alone were 
left alive. And night came down on the 
valley to which they had come, and was 
lit by flashes from the fatal mountain; and 
the two mourned for their comrades all 
night long. 

But when the morning came they re- 
membered their war with Fate, and their 
old resolve to come to Carcassonne, and 
the voice of Arleon rose in a quavering song, 
and snatches of music from his old harp, 
and he stood up and marched with his face 
southwards as he had done for years, and 
behind him Camorak went. And when at 
last they climbed from the third valley, 
and stood on the hill's summit in the golden 
sunlight of evening, their aged eyes saw 
only miles of forest and the birds going 
to roost. 

165 



A Dreamer's Tales 

Their beards were white, and they had 
travelled very far and hard; it was the time 
with them when a man rests from labours 
and dreams in hght sleep of the years that 
were and not of the years to come. 

Long they looked southwards; and the 
sun set over remoter forests, and glow- 
worms lit their lamps, and the inspiration 
of Arleon rose and flew away for ever, to 
gladden, perhaps, the dreams of younger 
men. 

And Arleon said: "My King, I know no 
longer the way to Carcassonnne." 

And Camorak smiled, as the aged smile, 
with little cause for mirth, and said : "The 
years are going by us like huge birds, whom 
Doom and Destiny and the schemes of God 
have frightened up out of some old grey 
marsh. And it may well be that against 
these no warrior may avail, and that Fate 
has conquerored us, and that our quest 
has failed." 

And after this they were silent. 

Then they drew their swords, and side 
by side went down into the forest, still 
seeking for Carcassonne. 

I think they got not far; for there were 

166 



A Dreamer's Tales 

> 
deadly marshes in that forest, and gloom 

that outlasted the nights, and fearful beasts 

accustomed to its ways. Neither is there 

any legend, either in verse or among the 

songs of the people of the fields, of any 

having come to Carcassonne. 



167 




SvIT?i7=«>i^." 



zr ■$- 









ro 
o 

5 > > 

z (/) 

? 5 

P» I 

P ? m 





K 


^^ 


< 


<* 


tr 


r-v 


/'«' 


f 


^ 


-\ 




n 


~~" 




> 


V5 




■^^ 


^ 


><^ 


T 


-J 


W > 


D 




ft 


— 




X 




> 




^m 


i 


n 


■ 


P 


V 


r 




^ 


1 




'.^ 






^■k- 


• SI 




3 


.<»> 




C 


•— f 


u! 


• m* 


' 


1» 


, ^ , 


>. 




1> 


• >* 


o 


_C 


C 


— • 


-5 


3 




> 





a 




V*-, 


y; 






>v 


o 


cr 


_c 


JC 


(U 


■■■ « 


a: 


j^ 


a; 


^o 


S 


(U 


Ic" 


c^ 


C/3 




u 


tuC 


3 


-c 

4-1 


La 





*i 


c 

V4~ 


-i-l 








j« 


c 


i 




a; 


XA 


c 


4-J 


V 


c 





CN 



0) 






i^^Iy<:].tyi''^ -i'--^^'-- 



J, 


s^ 


V 


-f^ 


_<^ 


/"v 


>— 


<Tl 


^ 


N 






s^^ 


^ 


o 


~ 





o' 


o' 


~i 


ft 


"1 

n 




^ 


3 


^ 





1 


V3 






3 
O 




>• 


3 


3 

3 


3 
3 


r" 




a 


v5 


3- 


< 










'X 


0) 


fD 


^-^ 








^^ 


'^ 


3 


rr 








TT 


'y. 




^^ 








(T 


^^ 


















< 










r: 






LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 





014 677 525 1 % 















